


"You asked what about all this is real?"

by Inlovewithsaturn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x19, Birthday, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean Lives, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Dean Winchester's Birthday, Dean would not die from a fucking vampire, F/M, First Kiss, Fix-It, Healing Dean Winchester, I dont know how to tag, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Season 15 episode 20 fix it, Sort Of, Suicidal Thoughts, because fuck the cw thats why, cas comes back, or a goddamn piece of rebar, they are mention sort of, they get to be happy, what the fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28988610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inlovewithsaturn/pseuds/Inlovewithsaturn
Summary: Dean woke up on his 42nd birthday the way he had been waking up nearly every day in the last few months: an armful of white fur and wet kisses across his cheeks. When Miracle first came home with them Dean had made sure to get her a big, cushy, memory foam dog bed so that she would be comfortable, but it had taken all of three nights for him to relent and let her sleep pressed against his side. He liked having her there, hell, he didn't even try and hide it. He was trying to hide things less now. He was trying to be better.He was trying to be the man Cas had told him he was.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 153





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I have not written fanfiction since 2015 and that was like twice? I am a heavy reader though and these characters deserved far better than they got. Tell me if anything needs work!

Dean woke up on his 42nd birthday the way he had been waking up nearly every day in the last few months: an armful of white fur and wet kisses across his cheeks. When Miracle first came home with them Dean had made sure to get her a big, cushy, memory foam dog bed so that she would be comfortable, but it had taken all of three nights for him to relent and let her sleep pressed against his side. He liked having her there, hell, he didn't even try and hide it. He was trying to hide things less now. He was trying to be better. 

He was trying to be the man Cas had told him he was. 

The thought of Cas had him hugging Miracle just a little tighter to his chest, burying his face in her warm fur. He thought about Cas a lot. His eyes, his final moments, his confession. Dean missed him more than he really thought was possible. But life goes on. You lose people and you have to keep going, no matter how big the ache in your chest gets, you have to keep going. That's what Dean was trying to do. He wanted Cas’s sacrifice to mean something. If he got out now Cas’s death would have been for naught, so he kept going. 

There had been some close calls, even as the number of hunts got lower and lower. Dean had a nasty gash still healing on his ribs from where a piece of rebar almost got him, now that would have been a dumb way to go. Those first couple of weeks had been hard. Dean contemplated just ending it all, he wasn't really sure how to go on after everything that happened, wasn't sure how to fill the angel-sized hole in his heart. But Cas’s words played on his head in a loop and he wasn't going to die and throw away the chance Cas had died to give him. He loved the other man far too much to let that happen. 

So Dean got up, he pulled on his dead guy robe and grabbed the plate from last night’s pizza rolls, and he scratched Miracle behind the ears. Today was going to be a good day, whether the universe wanted it to be or not. He hummed as he walked to the kitchen. He was doing better. Coffee was scenting the air as he neared the doorway and, oh, bacon? Happy birthday to him! As he grinned and rounded the doorway three things immediately became clear. 1. That was not his brother (way too short), 2. The “unbreakable” glass plates he got at the store were not in fact unbreakable if the cuts pricking his legs were to be believed, and 3. He was going to get to start his birthday by killing whatever son of a bitch had decided to put on that trenchcoat and waltz into his home. 

The shattering dinnerware caused the creature to turn in surprise, it's elbow nearly bumping the frying pan to the ground, but it caught it at the last moment. It then turned back, blue eyes locking with green. Dean was frozen, not for long but for longer than a seasoned hunter should have been. In two long strides he had a knife from the butcher block in his grip and was pressing the blade to the fucker’s neck with his other arm solidly around it’s chest. His voice was wobbling when he spoke.  
“I dont care what the fuck you are, get out of that body now or your death is gonna take a hell of a lot longer than it needs to.” 

The sigh of frustration coming from the monster was almost expected. Monsters were cocky little bastards. The words it spoke though? Rather surprising. 

“Dean, if you don't let me go the bacon is going to burn and this is the only pack in the fridge.” 

Huh. Okay. So it was going to get extra tortured then. It was one thing to take his shape but pretending to be his angel cooking him breakfast was another. He pressed down harder with the knife, drawing a blood and a wince-

“Cas?” 

Dean didn't loosen his hold but he did turn his neck to look at Sam, who was currently in the same position of shock Dean had vacated moments earlier. His brother’s face pushed the tears that were burning the back of his eyes into the light. He needed a drink. 

“Sam, get the silver and the holy water from the cupboard,” Sam didn't move. “Now!” Dean gritted out, just as the monster cut in. 

“I'm not a shapeshifter Dean, or a demon, I was just trying to make breakfast.” 

“Shut up. Stop saying my name.” Was all Dean could manage. He had been thinking about hearing Cas say his name, just once more, for weeks now. This was agony. 

Sam had apparently been shaken from his trance because the next thing Dean felt was residual holy water splashing his cheek. He let go of one arm so Sam could push up the coat, his coat, and draw the thin silver blade over skin. 

Nothing happened except a few pricks of blood and a sharp inhale that Dean could feel pressed against his chest. Then there was a quiet, fluttering, woosh to his left. A sound he hadn't heard in months. 

“It seems I should have arrived at the same time as Cas, sorry about that.” 

Dean’s brain was going way too fast. It felt like there was cotton stuffed in his ears and all the way through his skull. The edges of his vision went dark, zeroing in on the figure standing next to the stove, white jacket somehow almost glowing. Now Dean was almost certain that this was a dream because the last thing he saw before fainting backwards into the counter was Jack, smiling like there was absolutely nothing amiss. 

***  
His head hurt. Not like a hangover but more like that time a vampire had clocked him from behind with a 2x4. He opened his eyes, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. That dream had been insane. Why was he in the kitchen? 

“How is your head Dean?” Cas’s low voice washed over him in a sea of warmth. 

“It hurts like a bitch. What happened Cas?” 

Oh fuck. Not a dream. 

Dean pushed up so he was sitting and tried to stand and tackle the man before him at the same time but the floor seemed to rush towards him and he ended up slumped on Cas’s chest. Warm arms caught him by the waist and sat him back down. A large hand gripped his chin and he was turned to see his brother. 

“Calm the hell down okay? You hit your head pretty hard on the counter.” Dean jerked his eyes back to Cas and tried, again unsuccessfully, to leave his hold. His face was turned again. 

“He's not a monster Dean, stop moving. You have a cut.” Sam lifted his hand to place a small bandaid on Dean’s eyebrow. 

“What?” 

“Jack pulled me out. Please let your brother finish his first aid so we can talk.” 

Dean sat still. 

Once Sam was satisfied with his handiwork he and Cas helped Dean stand and move to the table. 

Dean sat still. 

This was not happening. How in the world could it be? 

Cas sat in front of him. Cas gazed at him with a mix of worry and pure joy. Cas reached out a hand to gently squeeze the one Dean had lying limp on the tabletop. He felt real. He felt like Cas. 

“Cas?” Cas smiled wider. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

Tears slid down Dean’s cheeks as his hand not currently occupied with gripping onto Cas lifted, shaking, to brush across the angel’s cheekbone. He was really here. He was warm and solid and breathing. He was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen. 

“How are you here?” His voice was barely above a whisper. He was terrified that if he spoke too loud or moved too fast this would all fall apart and he would wake back up in his bed, alone with only his dog and memories to keep him going. 

“Jack came to an agreement with the Empty, he could help it sleep if he was allowed to pull a few angels out to help in Heaven. I was the first.” 

“I prayed to you Cas. I didn't think you could hear me but I kept praying. How long have you been out?” At this, sadness shadows across blue eyes, guilt evident in his ethereal features. 

“A while by Earth standards of time. There was so much to be done. I heard them. I heard you.” 

He looks back up. 

“I am sorry Dean, we worked as fast as we could. I cannot tell you what it is now, but it is far better than what my father created. Jack is a good leader. It was important I finished before I saw you again.” 

“Why?” Dean is now holding both of Castiel’s hands in his own. A sad smile graces Cas’s mouth.

“Because I knew once I saw you I would be unable to leave you again.” 

Dean stands, the floor now remaining steady under his feet, and has his arms around Cas in seconds. Castiel stands as well so he can wrap around him, Dean’s face quickly finding its home in the crook of Cas’s neck. 

“Thank you.” 

“I didn't actually do it, Jack is the one to thank.” 

“No.” Dean pulls back so he can see Cas’s face. “Thank you for coming back.” 

“I’ll always come when you call.” 

Dean pulls him back in, suffocating himself in the scent of Cas. He stays that way for a time, only pulling away when he hears a small giggle from behind him. Jack is beaming, as is Sam, and Dean rushes to envelop Jack in a hug as well. 

“Thanks kid.” 

“Of course, Dean. It was his choice anyway, I just made it happen. I don't think there is anyone better to teach him how to be human than you and Sam.” 

Dean pulls back. 

“Human?” 

Cas speaks again, anxiety laced into his words. 

“Yes, as Jack said, I made the choice. I can go somewhere else if that-” Dean’s arms surround him once again, crushing any doubts he was holding. 

“We are gonna teach you everything okay? You're gonna love it.” Dean is smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. Cas is staying here. Cas is human and real and he's here. 

“I know you all need to catch up on some things but I do have some pressing matters to get back to, and I brought a birthday cake that I would very much like to eat.” Dean doesn't know if he will ever be able to feel this much joy ever again. 

“And I insisted on a birthday pie as well, though it is not traditional I thought it may be appreciated.” Dean’s heart could have exploded right then and there. Cas is the best thing that ever happened to him. 

“Get some plates Sammy.” 

They sit down, Cas and Dean on one side, Sam and Jack on the other. They eat cake. Dean eats pie. They tell Cas about the things Dean left out of his prayers, like Dean’s application to a local mechanic, and how Eilleen has been staying over more and more. They all hug Jack goodbye and he promises to drop in sometimes. Sam leaves to call Eilleen, and finally, Dean and Castiel are sitting side by side in the empty kitchen. Cas speaks first. 

“I got you something.” Dean blushes and averts his eyes from the man beside him.  
“You didn't have to Cas. You coming back is pretty much the birthday gift of a lifetime.” Cas chuckles at that but slips his hand into the breast pocket of his coat all the same. 

“I wanted to. You deserve good things, Dean. Especially on your birthday.” Dean wants to make a joke about how utterly unworthy he is of anything Cas has to offer but the words die in his throat as Castiel stands from his seat to kneel on the cold floor beside him. Holy shit. 

“I heard your prayers Dean. I know how hard you tried to get me out. I know about your mom’s ring. I could hear the life you planned out for us. I heard everything. I could see you too. I know how hard you have been working to be true to yourself. I never regretted for a moment that I let the Empty take me. Not one. You are worth everything. I rebuilt Heaven for you, Dean. Everyone will benefit but I did it for you. You are so full of love. From the moment I raised you out of hell I knew I would never lay my eyes on another soul as beautiful as yours. I know I do not technically exist and you are legally dead but I do not want to spend another moment without you. So, Dean Winchester, will you marry me?” 

Dean is on his knees, hands cradling Cas’s face, lips crashing against the ex-angel’s before he can even utter his response. He’s been wanting to do this for years. Dean kisses with every ounce of adoration he has in him, pushing away only when he needs to breathe. Their foreheads rest against each other, two sets of tears mixing on cheeks. They are breathing the same air, eyes still closed, chests rising and falling in frantic harmony. 

“Yes! I love you. I love you so much I can hardly stand it.” 

They're kissing again, soft and sweet. Dean’s fingers are threaded through dark hair, he never wants to let go. They stay kneeling on the bunker floor wrapped in each other's arms for what feels like an eternity. Once Dean can feel his knees giving out he stands and drags Cas along with him, the shorter man scooping up the ring box on the way. Dean hadn't even seen the ring yet. Cas clutches his hand and rests it over his heart while he fumbles to get the jewelry free. 

It's a simple band, nothing flashy or ornate, but Dean’s eyes catch on something engraved inside. Cas reads his mind, the same way he always does. 

“For Love,” Castiel smiles that same watery smile that is seared into Dean’s heart.

“The engraving, that's what it says. I made it before we came.” With those words, he slips the ring onto Dean’s hand. He doesn't let go, only uses one hand to pull Dean back in, kissing him with all the love in the world. Dean kisses back, matching him move for move. 

***  
The next day they walk hand in hand through the door of the lone jewelry store in Lebanon, Mary’s old ring in Dean’s pocket. Lighter silver than the one on Dean’s finger but fitting all the same. They get it engraved too. 

“We are.”


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all began with Castiel making a grand discovery, a place where the most important knowledge known to mankind was sorted and sifted through to easily bring about images and posts about the things most desired by the heart. A great, wonderful, slightly advertisement-prone website. Pinterest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was not planning on making a part two but I wanted to plan a wedding so here were are. This is not very good, or beta read, but I had fun! Here is a wedding, because it's what they deserve dammit.

It all began with Castiel making a grand discovery, a place where the most important knowledge known to mankind was sorted and sifted through to easily bring about images and posts about the things most desired by the heart. A great, wonderful, slightly advertisement-prone website. Pinterest.

He had gone to the internet in search of recipes fairly soon after returning to his family, to Dean, from the whole Empty deal-Heaven rebuilding fiasco. Not that he didn't love Dean cooking him burgers or Sam supplying him with surprisingly filling smoothies before their morning jogs, he just wanted to branch out a bit. Find his own tastes. Near immediately Google had given him link after link to the site, and it continued to happen every time he searched for a different recipe. 

Lasagna? Pinterest. Stir-fry? Pinterest. Cupcakes? Pinterest. 

The only logical step he could see was to get the app, so he did. He knew his way around a cellphone, he had been using one for years, but his previous adventures on the internet had been mainly hunting related. He found he enjoyed the site (though his cooking skills were not improving in the slightest), and once Dean had banished him from using the kitchen without careful supervision he still found himself scrolling. He found that not only were there many recipes on the site but also things for the home, funny pictures he enjoyed sending to Claire (she pretended to hate them), and, most excitingly, wedding ideas. 

Pin after pin, board after board, so many ideas for weddings. Food, games, clothes, gifts, and even playlists were at his fingertips, all he had to do was tap. He loved it. 

The dwindling number of hunts paired with Dean and Sam’s general unease at the idea of him hunting now that he was human gave Castiel hours to scroll through the pictures, saving them to his boards. He had one for Sam and Eileen, he couldn't imagine they would not end up together sometime soon, and one for him and Dean. 

When he had proposed he truly had meant what he said, neither he or his love legally existed, and he had not planned on anything more than the bands currently resting on each of their hands. But, love does funny things to a person, and ex-angles were no different. He wanted to declare to the world, or more accurately their small found family, that he loved Dean Winchester with every single bone in his body while standing under an arch made of flowers and crying manly tears of adoration. The only issue there was that you needed both grooms to have a wedding and Cas really didn't see Dean as the flower-arch type. 

So he made his board. 

On long drives during hunts he made his board, smiling softly as he listened to the usual chatter of the brothers in the front seat, plotting out details for a day that would never come. When he had trouble sleeping and Dean was already snoring beside him he would turn the brightness of his phone all the way down and look through cake ideas until his eyelids were heavy. During Star Wars marathons that had lulled both Sam, Dean, and Eileen to sleep he would watch them with a fond gaze as he scrolled through snacks and goody bags, careful to not wake Dean from his position with his head resting on Cas’s lap. It was fun, harmless, and looking at the loving faces of newly hitched couples over and over again filled him with warmth. He was happy, not because of the site, but it gave him something to channel his focus onto now that they were no longer dealing with his deadbeat dad and cosmic entities that wanted them dead. He was happy, and finally, he was allowed to be.

But Dean started getting worried. Cas spends a lot of time smiling softly at his screen and surely that can't be good for him, right? His brain technically is not developing, Dean reasons, but the internet is a scary place and all sorts of things could be messing his angel up for good. The last thing they needed after so long battling just to live their own lives was for Cas to get pulled into an MLM or something. So, Dean intervened. 

“Watcha lookin’ at back there babe?” Cas’s eyes met Dean’s in the rearview mirror one day on their way to Nebraska, a nasty spirit was terrorizing a bed and breakfast so the new group of four were taking a little vacation-slash-ghost hunt. Cas slammed his phone screen first onto the seat between him and Eileen before he stuttered out-

“What? Oh, uh, nothing? Ghost research.” He tore his eyes away and decided to memorize every blade of grass in the field racing past the Impala’s window. That turned out to be the wrong answer. Eileen grabbed the device and had it open before he could even sign an anxious “No” at her. He should have Claire put a password on it for him. 

“It looks like…wedding cakes?” That seemed to shut everyone up nicely. He took his phone back and shoved it deep into the pocket of his trenchcoat. Moments passed with only the soft sounds of Asia coming from the radio. Dean cleared his throat. 

“Cas, why are you looking at wedding cakes?” His voice was low, not angry at least, but genuinely confused. 

“Uh, no reason?” Cas didn't even think he sounded believable. 

“Can we maybe talk about it after the hunt?” Dean asked, eyes not really focused on the road but pointedly avoiding the mirror. 

“Of course, Dean.” 

They didn't talk much the next day and a half. Dean seemed troubled and Cas wanted to do nothing else than be back in his room at the bunker wallowing in his disappointment. Dean wasn't supposed to find out for this exact reason. Cas knew Dean loved him, that was no longer a question in his mind, but Dean was also not a big in-your-face romantic. They had their rings, Dean would hold his hand while they were pressed side to side on a diner bench, kiss his cheek and his forehead and his lips even while in public, and they spent nearly every night tangled together in bed, neither liking to spend too long without the reassurance that the other was indeed breathing next to them. Weddings just were not his thing, and Cas needed to respect that. 

They didn't stay after they got the body burned, though it was late and they were all exhausted, loading up in the car and taking off in the direction of Lebanon before the embers had even gone out. Castiel awoke to Dean slipping his arm beneath Cas’s knees and carrinying him into the bunker. He snuggled his face into the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean rid them both of their boots and outer layers before collapsing onto the mattress where they slept, pressed together as always. 

When Cas wakes again he thinks it may be morning, or at least day. Dean is still asleep, his head cushioned on Castiel’s chest, breathing evenly. The former angel lays as still and only slips away when his bladder really can't wait any longer. He showers and brushes his teeth and curses his body for getting dirty so fast. It just seems unnecessary. 

Dean finds him a bit later, smelling of the same lavender body wash from the farmer’s market Cas used an hour ago. He wraps himself around his angel and kisses his cheek. 

`, what flavor cake are we having angel? Just please don't say vanilla, we are way more exciting than that.” His lips ghost over the back of Castiel’s neck before he moves to the side to get coffee. Cas stares with wide eyes. 

“You want to have a wedding cake?” 

“Those usually accompany weddings, so.” Dean shrugs but the small grin gracing his face gives him away. He's excited. 

“You want to have a wedding?” With that, Dean sets down his mug and slips his hands into Cas’s grasp, pulling him so they are now face to face. Then he drops to one knee. 

“I know I'm not the most romantic guy Cas, words ain't exactly my strong suit, and I know I already said yes but if you want a real wedding, with flowers and a priest and vows that make us cry like chicks then that's what we’ll do. I love you more than anything else, I only want you to be happy, and if a wedding will make you happy then we are gonna have the best damn wedding ever alright? So, even though I already know the answer, Castiel, will you marry me?” 

Cas is already upholding the tearful part of the proposal when he pulls Dean up to kiss him. 

And so, the wedding plans begin. 

~*~*~*~

They decide on June. Cas wants to have the ceremony in the sunshine, and the bunker is not exactly brimming with romantic spots to confess their undying love, so a clearing in the forest beside the building is chosen. They aren't expecting many people, low enough numbers that the War Room should be plenty big enough for the reception, but all the people they care about and trust to access their hidden home are invited. 

It is a surprise to absolutely nobody, excluding Cas, that Dean is the one who ends up taking over much of the planning. He even gets his own Pinterest account to save ideas and meticulously plan the event. He’s getting married for Jack’s sake, he will not have his-their- day ruined by ungly centerpieces or tacky goody bags. 

He barely takes hunts anymore, they only have four months to plan after all, and he finds that he doesn't miss it as much as he feared he would. His time is now taken up by becoming a wedding planner extraordinaire. Lebanon does not have many options in the way of florals or baked goods so they both decide to try and DIY their wedding as much as possible (and if Sam has to use his budding magic skills to hold some decorations together or keep many test floral arrangements from wilting, well, what are little brothers good for?). 

Dean is in charge of food, armed with Eileen as an aide. Sam proved to be more of a hindrance in the kitchen than anything else, but he does prove himself as handy with a glue gun as he is with a revolver so he is drafted to help Cas with decorations. They both hand-write the invitations because it turns out waiting over ten years to admit that you are in love with your bestfriend turns you into a sappy, romantic, wax sealed pile of mush, and they both think that it's adorable when the other cant spell names right. 

The months pass by in a flurry of flour dusted and glitter adorned days. They mail the invitations, save for Rowena’s whose is hand delivered by the happy couple to her throne, and Jack’s, because he comes down to help every so often and Heaven doesn't exactly have P.O boxes. Dean discovers a true love for baking, though pie will never lose its place in his heart, he is marrying a man who prefers cake (as much as it pains him to think about) so he practices both. Castiel spends his time split between the War Room and the garden. Days after his return he mapped out his plans for a garden while pressed against Dean in their bed. They were not quite sure how good the soil surrounding the bunker was, power plant runoff mixed with the amount of magic warding stored in the structure did not lend to a high hope that anything planted would not immediately die or become sentient and take over their home, so they opted for raised beds. Dean had them built almost as soon as the ground unfroze. Cas spent much of his time taking care of the garden, reading about gardens, and talking about the care and reading concerning gardens. Dean loved him just a little bit more every time a new plant fact passed the other man’s lips. 

Dean has settled into the fact that he likes men. Settled into the fact that he likes to bake and listen to his fiance talk about bees and marigolds while he runs his fingers through dark hair. And he's trying, really trying, to accept the fact that their wedding can have pretty things and still be masculine. He was slowly letting go of some of the hyper-macho things that he thought he should be as the years have passed. He lets himself be soft. But when he first saw the things Cas had picked out for their wedding he panicked just a little. There were a lot of flowers, many pictures of little twinkling lights, and confetti. He was not a confetti kind of guy, no matter who the love of his life was. 

So, like the emotionally open person he was trying very hard to be, he talked to Cas about it. They talked at length about Dean’s past one night in the warm glow of the bedside lamp. Cas knew a lot of it, he had pieced Dean back together more than one time in more than one way, but Dean finally let himself open up about his childhood, those years before he and Sam went to find their dad, the private beliefs he held so tightly to his soul he never thought they would see the light of day. Cas did that to him. Helped him open up. They were new lovers but old friends, and something about old friends has the tendency to break you apart right to your core so you can finally rip out the dark threads wrapped around your heart and replace them with silken ribbons. 

“I'm not ashamed to be in love with you Cas. I'm not ashamed to be marrying a man.” He whispered. 

“But?” Cas replied, always knowing when there was more to the story. 

“There's still a little part of my brain that screams at me everytime I cry at a dead dog movie or hold your hand in the grocery store.” The voice sounded an awful lot like John Winchester. 

“And what does it say?” Cas’s fingers trailed soothing lines down Dean’s chest, his head tucked under the other man’s chin. He knew his love well enough that eye contact would not be a helpful addition at the moment. 

“That I'm broken.” 

“Do you believe it?” 

Dean paused at that. 

“No.” And, maybe for the first time, he really, really didn't. 

“Confetti is rather bad for the environment.” Dean smiled down at him. 

“Is that right?” 

“I was considering dried lavender instead. It will smell lovely and our friends can throw it over us after the ceremony as is customary. What do you think?” 

“Yeah angel, I think that'll be perfect.” 

~*~*~*~

June 30th, 2021, National Meteor Day, is the day Dean and Castiel marry. Under an arch made of dark green leaves and cream colored roses Jack waits on an oak platform so dark it almost seems black. Cas stands next to him, navy blue suit and white button-up, tears already making their way down his smiling cheeks. He doesn't have a tie, they are far too uncomfortable now that he’s aware of things like clothing, but Dean says he likes him better without anyway. 

Sam walks Dean down the aisle, tears filling his eyes just as they have been for the last few days. What can he say, he's a crier. Dean isn't, but the pure joy and content radiating from his smile alone could bring anything evil to its knees. They reach Cas and Sam hugs Dean so tight his eyes water a little, then the younger brother makes his way to sit down in the first row of folding chairs, Eileen’s hand finding his immediately. Dean turns and is lost in a sea of blue.

It's a beautiful wedding. Jack recites an altered version of the classic ceremony, written by Sam (it was revealed that he could not make it through without crying so much that it just got a bit sad), some things changed and some left. It's not like death has actually done them part so far, not for lack of trying mind you, but it just didn't fit them. There was a lot about them that didn't fit the mold. Neither cared at all. 

“Dean, do you take Castiel to be your husband, to have and to hold in this life and the next, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, human or angel, to love and cherish, for as long as your souls shall live?” 

His thumb trailed over Castiel’s knuckles, soft eyes lost in the face of his eternal love.   
“I do.” 

He held Cas’s hand and slipped the simple iron band around his finger. 

“And Castiel, do you take Dean to be your husband, to have and to hold in this life and the next, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, human or angel, to love and cherish, for as long as your souls shall live?”

He never knew he could be this happy. 

“I do.” 

An identical ring now adorned Dean. 

“I pronounce you husband and husband, gentle reminder that you are in the company of others, you both may now kiss the groom.” 

The small crowd erupted in giggles that morphed into whoops when the newlyweds did not heed the reminder in the slightest. 

Dean had his fingers curling around Cas’s jaw before Jack even finished talking, pulling him close, their lips meeting in a sweet explosion of sparks. It reminded Dean of that first day in the barn. Castiel held Dean’s waist with one hand, the other resting on the center of Dean’s chest, Dean soon mirroring the position. Their first rings were now stored on chains around their necks, safe. Iron rings were not only wonderful for ghost punching but also held much less sentimental value, and therefore much safer to wear on the hands of a monster hunter/mechanic and ex-angel/chronic gardener. The first rings were their vows. 

Cas pulled away grinning. They were married. Maybe not in the eyes of the law but they were now perhaps the only couple that could say they had been joined by God himself. They were also the only couple that could say their son was God. A special pair indeed. 

They walked back down the aisle, hands intertwined, lavender and laughter raining down on them. 

~*~*~*~

The reception was perfect. The library tables had been moved to the sides of the room, extra chairs added to hold all the attendees, and strings of lights were strung across the bookshelves. It looked more like a home than it ever had before. Cream colored tablecloths added an elegant feel to the concrete walls, there were enough flowers to feed a small colony of bees, and enough food to feed the wedding party two times over. Dean had decided against a main meal (who wanted to wait for pasta to warm up when there was partying to be done?) instead filling the War Table with appetizers and potluck style platters. Pigs in a blanket and potato salad were far more their style anyhow. Dean was most excited for dessert, though. Honey-vanilla pound cake, drizzled with sweet glaze and raspberry compote, and apple pie. Whoever decided there only needed to be one baked good at a wedding was obviously mistaken. 

Dean pulled Cas down the stairs of the bunker and into the hall while their guests made their way inside behind them. Tears were streaming down his face as he pressed his new husband against the wall, lips finding lips. He was happier than he had ever been, happier than he knew he could ever be. Sobs wracked his body as he moved to press his face into Cas’s shoulder. Castiel’s arms wrapped around his back and he could feel tears landing on his neck, at least they could be overwhelmed together. 

“I love you so much.” 

“I am never letting you go.” 

They spoke in the same breath, giggles and grins showing that these were not tears of sadness but of pure love. They stood there for a few moments, pulses slowing and breath evening, then pulled away. 

“Well Cas, I think you owe me my first dance.” 

“Do I?” 

“If I had to learn all those ballroom steps for no reason I will ask Jack to divorce us right now.” 

That earned a chuckle and forehead kiss. 

“Well we certainly wouldn't want that,” Cas smiled and held out his hand, palm up, offering. “I believe we have guests to greet Mr. Winchester.”

Dean placed his hand in Cas’s, squeezed, and smiled back. 

“I think you're right Mr. Winchester.” 

Together, they stepped through the door.


End file.
